Sick
by Potter47
Summary: Enough had been thought, and said, and felt, and imagined. It was about time that something should be done. Written for the SiYE Open House Challenge. GinnyLuna for friendship ONLY.
1. Chapter 1

Sick  
_Potter47_

"Enough had been thought, and said, and felt, and imagined.   
It was about time that something should be done."  
— C. S. Lewis

_I_

_The grand hall of the castle was filled to burst with knights and fair ladies and princes and princesses, all dancing and twirling and dancing and twirling--INCESSANTLY--and laughing and clapping and laughing and clapping and paying no mind at all to that pesky dragon stomping about on the front lawn..._

"Are you OK, Luna?" said a voice.

Luna's eyes snapped closed, awakening herself from her daydream, and then she opened them again to see who had spoken. It was Ginny.

Luna looked round—she was in the library, surrounded by books and Ginny was seated opposite her with a harassed expression on her face—harassed but _concerned_, Luna reckoned. Not all that concerned, really, just more like... more like Ginny had just looked up and noticed that Luna didn't look exactly alert, and, seeing her in this blank state, Ginny thought it common courtesy to ask if Luna were all right. That was probably it.

"I'm fine, I wasn't anywhere near it."

In a different situation, Ginny might have asked what "it" was—and Luna would have informed her, "The dragon, of course"—but this was not a different situation, this was _this _situation, and in this situation the red-haired sixth year was studying for her NEWTs, while Luna kept her company by studying for her end of year exams. So Ginny looked right back down at her book.

Luna examined her friend, now—the beads of sweat beading into sweat beads on her forehead—the paleness of her face—and the unkeptness of her hair, and Luna realised rather shockingly that Ginny was, indeed, sick.

"Are you OK, Ginny?"

"Yes, of course I am," said the sick-ee, not looking up from the book she was holding—a book much larger than books should ever be made, in Luna's opinion, it seemed poised to eat the poor girl. "Why wouldn't I be?"

There was a slight tilt of hysteria at the end of her words.

"Ginny, I think you are sick. Your forehead is sweaty. Your face is pale. Your hair is unkept. I think you've come down with something..."

"Luna," said Ginny, looking up exasperatedly, "if I am sick, I am sick in the head only, for being so incredibly nutters as to think I could get these bloody things out of the way a year early..."

"You're not crazy, Ginny, that's a perfectly reasonable thing to do—now, if you were planning on doing all this just for the sake of getting it done, rather than going to help with the fight and be with your beloved... _that _would be crazy. Wasn't Hermione Granger going to try that?"

"Not that I know of," said Ginny, her head down once again. "But _God_, Luna..."

"What about Him?"

Ginny glared at her and sniffled. Luna smiled, and said:

"Aha! You're sick."

"What? No, I'm—"

"You sniffled. That's more than concrete enough evidence for the Wizengamot, why isn't it good enough for you?"

"Because I don't _feel_ sick, Luna." Ginny made an angry mark on her parchment, and if it had been a piece of flimsy yellow Muggle maths paper, it would have torn clean in two. Alas, it wasn't, so it didn't.

"That's the problem with the world today, we do everything on account of our _feelings,_ as opposed to how things actually are..." Luna paused, and then: "Just because you don't feel sick doesn't mean you're not sick. I assure you, you are. And by morning, I also assure you, my friend, you will feel very sick indeed."

"Whatever. Could you let a sick girl revise in peace, then?"

"All right. I'll get some chicken soup."

"_I'M—NOT—SICK...!_" said Ginny a bit too loudly, causing Madam Pince to look over at them warningly.

"You just said you were, actually," noted Luna, "but anyway, the soup's for _me_, I happen to like it."

——

Luna made her way down to the Hogwarts kitchens, and when she reached the painting of the bowl of fruit, she tickled the grape on the right-hand corner, to see if anything would happen. Nothing did, so she (rather disappointedly) tickled the pear instead.

She opened the painting with the newly emerged doorknob, and as soon as she did, she heard a very un-House-Elf-like voice emerging from within:

"We need your staff to be all-hands-on-deck all throughout the day, elf, absolutely ready for any and all food selections that might come their way..."

"Yes, Minister sir, yes of course, Dobby will make sure... we will not disappoint you, Minister sir."

"Good—"

The voice (which, Luna now saw, belonged to the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour) halted as its owner spotted Luna entering the portrait hole.

"Who are you?" he said, and Luna saw that he had Percy Weasley by his side with a scroll of parchment, as though this culinary planning session was the absolute top priority of the Ministry of Magic... "What are you doing here?"

"Luna Lovegood," said Luna. "I'm here for some chicken soup."

She spoke with a rather stiff voice, for this man was the head of the Ministry—the Ministry was one of Luna's least favourite things in the whole world. He also happened to be a vampire, which wasn't a very appealing quality either.

Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, and then turned to Percy, "I believe we're finished here, then, if you'll leave a copy of the suggested menu..."

"Already done, sir, the elf is holding it—"

"Oh, yes, of course—follow me, Weasley, we must find a place for the stage..."

"Yes, sir," said Percy, and Luna watched him sadly as he doggedly followed his boss out of the kitchens—it was more than obvious that he'd already been bitten.

"Here you are, Miss Lovegoods," said a squeaky voice, pulling her gaze from the vampiric intruders' exit— "Your chicken soup, Dobby made it just like you likes it, Miss Lovegoods." The elf was holding the bowl up to her as high as he could reach, and yet he seemed to be attempting a bow at the same time.

"Thank you, Dobby," said Luna, relieving him of the soup—he was able to bow properly, now. Luna breathed in the scent of the warm broth... it did wonders for her, even when she wasn't sick at all.

She set it down at what would have been the Ravenclaw table, if she were upstairs in the Great Hall, and sat down on the bench before it. Dobby was watching her expectantly, hoping for her to ask him for something else... she appeased.

"Dobby, what were those..." she hesitated, furrowed her brow, and continued, "_men_, what were those men doing here?"

"Oh, they was telling Dobby what Dobby already knew," said the elf, nodding fervently. "They tell Dobby to make sure we's all ready for Saturday—well, we's been ready for Saturday _since three Saturday's ago_, so Mr Minister did not have to come down to tell Dobby again..."

"What's Saturday?" said Luna, sipping her soup.

Dobby's eyes widened, which seemed rather unnatural. "They nots telling you yet? Dobby thought they's told you ages ago!"

"I don't believe so..."

Dobby looked, shockingly, shocked.

"They's been stomping about about it for ages and they's forgetting to tell the students? If they had elves doing the work, that's never would have happened..."

"What is it?"

"They's having a _demonstration,_" Dobby explained. "They's showing you all the secret stuffs they's using against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. If you ask Dobby, Dobby thinks they're a bit silly, showing you their secrets, because then they won't be secrets..."

"Then why are they showing us?" said Luna, scooping up a chunk of chicken with her spoon.

"To impress you, Dobby thinks. To make you thinks they's got everything _under control._"

"But who on earth would believe that?" said Luna rather unintelligibly, around a mouthful of carrots (she saved all of them for the bottom of the bowl, so that she could eat them all at once). She chewed, swallowed, and continued: "It's the Ministry, when have they ever had anything under control...?"

"Dobby doesn't know..." Dobby hesitated, looked up suddenly, and then turned back to Luna: "—but Dobby must unfortunately leave Miss Lovegoods, dinner is only an hour away..."

"Oh, that's fine," said Luna, draining the very last of her broth. "Thank you very much for the soup."

Dobby laughed. "Dobby will never get used to the thankings..."

Luna departed, thinking about the ministry and the vampires and the demonstration, and she wondered whether she preferred carrots cooked or crunchy, they were so very different-tasting it was difficult to decide...

——

As Luna returned to the library, Ginny was right where she'd left her—sitting with her books piled high in front of her, a wall of boringness that kept her locked up in the Castle of Revising. It was a sad sight, really. And she looked so dreadfully tired...

"Ginny, why don't you take a break? You could go rest in the common room, you'd be bound to get better if you spent some time with your beloved—"

"Will you _stop_ calling him my _beloved_, Luna?" said Ginny. Luna reckoned she was nearing the end of her rope, if the colour of her face meant anything. "We haven't gone out for nearly a _year_—"

"Are you saying Harry isn't your beloved?" said Luna curiously, quirking an eyebrow.

Ginny scratched away fervently with her quill. "_Yes_,"—she made a rough mark— "that is _exactly _what I'm—"

She stopped writing, then, and put down her quill. The aggravation fell from her face in a long moment.

Ginny sighed wearily, and spoke in a much weaker voice: "Luna, you know I'm not saying that, but could you please stop talking about it?"

"You rather resemble a mateless humdinger when you're lovesick," informed Luna softly.

"I'm not lovesick," said Ginny, but any sort of argumentative spirit had left her as she'd let her quill drop. "I'm not sick. I'm just... I'm tired."

Her voice was so pathetic sounding all of a sudden, now that she'd mentioned Harry, that Luna wanted to say "_Awwww..._" but held her tongue (metaphorically speaking, of course).

"You should rest," said Luna again, but somehow she felt Ginny was actually listening to her now, rather than considering her as just a bit more attention-worthy than the stray bit of hair falling across her eyes.

Ginny gazed across the table, looking at all of her books—her eyes seemed filled to the brim with despair and helplessness.

"I can't stop, though," she said, and Luna thought she might be near to tears, "I have to finish... so I can go with them when they leave. I _can't _stay here..."

"You won't," said Luna, walking round the table and putting a comforting arm round Ginny's shoulders. Hugging helped _everything_, Luna knew, it was the one foolproof action that absolutely never failed to make a person feel better...

Ginny leaned into the embrace, looking very much like a small child. This was odd, this occasion—Ginny _hated _being thought of as a little girl, she tried as hard as she could to act as grown-up as she could, she always had... Luna was very nearly taken aback by her friend's breakdown, and she would have been, if only Luna were taken aback by things. Luna shifted slightly so the back of Ginny's chair wouldn't be digging into her side.

"It's OK, Ginny," Luna whispered. "You'll be with him soon enough."

Ginny sniffled, and Luna thought perhaps she shouldn't mention the girl's sickness right now, when her other one was so clear on her heart.

"_I don't want him to leave me..._" said Ginny, so softly...

"He won't," said Luna, and she kissed the top of Ginny's head in as motherly a fashion as she could—Luna hadn't had much exposure to mothers for a while, though, so she wasn't sure if she'd gotten it right.

Ginny didn't seem to mind, though. Luna pressed her cheek lightly to the other girl's forehead.

_She has a temperature,_ thought Luna, at the sudden heat upon her face. _She's burning up. I knew it..._

Luna didn't say anything, however, and instead patted her friend on the back in as soothing a way as she knew how, and wondered about things.

_TBC_

Please review... I've got a bit of work cut out for me to finish this before the deadline, but I'm certainly going to try...


	2. Chapter 2

Sick  
_Potter47_

"Enough had been thought, and said, and felt, and imagined.  
It was about time that something should be done."   
— C. S. Lewis

_II_

_Outside the hall stood a girl, peering in the door hopefully, wondering if anyone would notice if she were to sneak in and blend in with the crowd..._

_But surely they _would _notice, for she wasn't dressed for the occasion, she was wearing her everyday things, nothing fit for a fancy ball... and so she didn't enter. It wasn't _her _party, anyway, what on earth did she belong there for, it was a silly party anyway, especially on account of the dragon._

"Luna? What's wrong with me? Why am I such a crybaby all of a sudden?"

Luna blinked, and became aware of her surroundings. She was in the Room of Requirement, with Ginny... she was holding Ginny, hugging Ginny and rocking her slightly as she cried. They were on an especially comfy couch, and Luna didn't mind in the slightest that Ginny was holding on rather tightly and soaking Luna's shirt with her tears.

"There's nothing wrong with being a crybaby," said Luna honestly. "I cried for ages and ages when my mum died..."

"That's different, though," mumbled Ginny. "Nobody _died_... And you're supposed to say _you're not a crybaby_..."

"But you are," said Luna. "Why would I lie?"

Ginny laughed, which was a nice sound to hear. "That's not the point."

It had been a day since Ginny had broken down in the library. She had somehow managed to make it through the day of classes—Luna would have headed straight for the Hospital Wing, if she felt like that, but Ginny was rather stubborn, and still insisted she wasn't sick.

At dinner, Ginny had asked Luna to meet her here, and when she had, Luna had been essentially pounced upon, and the couch had appeared and Ginny started sobbing and sobbing and sobbing and Luna was her personal handkerchief—"personal" in more ways than one.

It was odd, for Luna, this whole... _comforting _thing. She'd never been a comforter before, she'd never been there for somebody to make them feel better—usually it was the other way round, usually _she _needed to be comforted.

She remembered when she was little, and she went to her mum and daddy's bedroom, lay in between them and felt so much better... and when she was upset during the daytime, she went to her mum and she held Luna, and rocked her back and forth and kissed her forehead until Luna felt better, which she always did.

Luna had never really felt like her mum before. She'd never felt motherly at all. But now...

"Do you want to talk about it?" Luna said softly, stroking Ginny's hair off of her forehead. Luna had never really thought about how much smaller Ginny was than herself—how tall was she, anyway? She fit into her arms perfectly, it was... it was nice, this whole motherly thing.

"Maybe?" said Ginny, into Luna's robe.

Luna smiled. "What does that mean?"

"I dunno," said Ginny. Luna had to strain to make out the syllables correctly, even though "I dunno" was not exactly the most difficult thing to grasp. "I kinda want to talk about it, yeah... but I dunno what to talk about."

"Just ramble, then, that works for me."

Luna felt Ginny smile, which again was a very nice change.

"I'll try."

Ginny took a deep breath—and for a minute Luna thought she was going to sit up, so that it would be easier to talk—but she let the breath out and fell right into the same position she'd been in before, and began:

"I'm scared, Luna. I'm scared to death."

"No you aren't," said Luna. "If you were, you'd be a lot heavier."

When Ginny stayed silent a minute, Luna said, "I'm sorry. I'll be quiet."

"It's OK. I'm just.. thinking. I'm scared—scared of what's going to happen to him. I love him, you know I do, I love him more than I love anybody else in the world, and I'm not just saying that, I _love _him, I care for him so damned much, the thought of him in pain drives me barmy... the thought of him breaking a _toe_nail drives me up the wall... if he gets _hurt_..."

Ginny didn't speak for a minute, so Luna filled in the silence: "He's going to be OK, you know—"

"No," said Ginny, "I _don't _know, I don't have any idea. He's going to _leave _and I'm going to be here, all alone—"

"But you're not," said Luna. "You're going to go with him. That's what this is all for, isn't it? That's why you're absolutely running yourself dry, so that you can be with him, so that you can _be with your beloved_." Luna felt her voice revel in those words, and knew Ginny would not protest this time. "And even if you didn't... you would most definitely _not_ be alone—"

Luna felt Ginny smile again.

"Thank you," she said.

They were silent for a long while, and then Luna said: "Do you want to keep going?"

A moment's hesitation, and then:

"Yeah... I don't want to lose him, Luna... no matter what, and I don't want to just... I don't want to lose him. I can't stand the thought of _losing _him..."

"You're not going to lose him."

"But what if he goes off and doesn't come _back_, Luna? What if he leaves at the end of the year and I never ever see him again? I _love him..._"

Ginny took a breath, and Luna took one as well, and it was an odd moment of see-saw-ish motion because they didn't breathe in time with each other at all.

—silence.

Luna wondered if Ginny was finished this time. She hadn't really said much more than she had before, so maybe if Luna prompted her... but Luna didn't want to prompt her. Something in Ginny's voice, when she said "_I love him_," something was so _tired _in that voice, so worn-out and exhausted, that Luna could not say a word.

Luna let Ginny rest, she tucked her closer to her (if that was possible) and she eased her arms so that Ginny could relax a bit more.

As they both drifted off to sleep, Luna wondered for the first time if Ginny was contagious.

——

Ginny still stubbornly insisted that she wasn't sick, and so in the morning, after crying herself out and getting a good night of rest, she returned to the library.

Luna went with her, of course, and they settled down at the very same table they had occupied two nights before. Ginny took a deep breath before opening her first book and plunging in, but when she finally took that plunge, she did not surface again until Luna realised it was time for breakfast.

"It's time for breakfast," said Luna.

Ginny looked up from her Fortress of Non-fiction and looked around for a clock.

"No it isn't," she said upon finding one. "It's Saturday, remember, breakfast isn't for another—"

"Saturday?" said Luna.

"Yes. You know, the day after Sun—I mean, Friday. Why on _earth _did I say Sunday...?"

"Because you're overtired," supplied Luna. Then she added: "Today's the demonstration, did I mention it? I heard about it from Dobby the House-Elf the other day, the Ministry's demonstrating all their secrets for all the public to see..."

"Yeah, I know," said Ginny. "They told us ages ago, I don't really think I much want to go... I've got loads of work to catch up on—"

Luna blinked. "They did?"

"Yeah... why wouldn't they?"

"No, I just... I didn't hear about it until..."

Ginny smiled. "That's because things actually happen in the real world while you're off in la-la-land..."

"It's called Logica-Land," corrected Luna automatically, before returning to her point: "So... everybody already knows about it?"

"Yeah," said Ginny. "Most of the kids are really excited about it, actually... Harry's helping out with the duels. People can sign up to go against an Auror, he's helping with... stuff... I think they made him..." Ginny swallowed. "Well, anyway, like I said, I'd rather not go... you can if you want to, obviously..."

"No, I'll stay with you," said Luna, nodding. "It seems a bit silly, if you ask me, for all the Aurors to come here to show off what they can do, rather than actually doing it and fighting You-Know-Who..."

Ginny blinked now. "You know, you're right, that does seem a silly thing to do."

Luna smiled. "You said 'silly'. I'm the only one who ever says 'silly' anymore, I can't imagine why, it's a nice word, it makes me happy. Like 'yeesh.' Have you ever said 'yeesh'? You can't say it without smiling."

"_Yeesh_," said Ginny, smiling. "You're crazy, Luna."

"It's true, though—it forces your mouth into a smile even if a smile's the last thing your mouth wants to be. If people said 'yeesh' more often, there'd be less wrinkles in the world."

Ginny laughed, now. Luna's heart jumped a mile to hear it, it was the most wonderful sound in the world—to hear her crybaby laughing. It felt good.

——

Time went by, and soon enough, Luna was very, very hungry—she hadn't eaten since dinner the evening before, and it had been a long night. You're always hungrier after a long night, after all.

"Are you hungry?" she asked Ginny, hoping she would say 'yes' because it isn't good not to eat, especially when you're sick...

"Uh... yeah, I suppose," said Ginny, biting her lip as she scribbled something on her parchment and set down her quill.

"I'll get something from the kitchens for us, if you want," offered Luna, "if you'd rather rest a bit..."

Ginny shook her head. "The House-elves'll be too busy. We'd best just stop by the demonstration thing, there'll be loads of food."

Luna watched Ginny as she stood, and despite the obvious signs of sickness—pallor, unkept hair, slightly sweaty forehead—she had to admit that Ginny was looking a whole lot better than she had. And she sounded it as well, she was talking almost like normal, as though she hadn't spent the night crying her eyes out on Luna's chest. Perhaps, if it could keep Ginny healthy, Luna could play mum more often, she was rather enjoying it.

They walked down together to the entrance hall—a silent walk that was immediately disturbed upon entering the hall, for suddenly they were immersed in the sounds of hundreds of young witches and wizards screaming and enjoying themselves and having a good time... it rather hurt Luna's ears, the suddenness of it all.

The oak front doors were swung wide open, letting the bright Spring sunlight flood the hall as Luna had never seen it before—she supposed that everyone was fairly confident that with all the Aurors of the Ministry in attendance, You-Know-Who wouldn't dare try anything, so there was no point closing up the castle...

Once outside, it was no trouble to spot the food—it was distinct among all the places on the grounds in that it was overly occupied by far. It seemed half the school (as well as the visitors, the demonstration was open to the public) was gathered there, impatiently awaiting their foodstuffs.

"We'd best get in line," said Ginny wearily.

As they walked towards the food, Luna heard what sounded like a thousand different speakers at once, all saying something very different and all completely and obviously lying:

"Watch closely—this is a brand new spell, nobody's ever seen it before—we've gotten loads of Death Eaters with this very spell..."

Luna spoke close to Ginny's ear: "How can they have caught so many Death Eaters with it if it's a brand new spell that nobody's ever seen?"

Ginny laughed. "They can't have, obviously. You'd think they'd at least tell the truth, after going through all this trouble..."

_This Dark Magic Detection Device—D-M-Double-D as we call 'em, this particular one is used very much like your average Remembrall, except it fills with blue smoke when it senses an Unforgivable—_

—_this one here's got sparks that shoot out when it senses something's been Confunded! _

_This spell's awful handy in dealing with the higher-ranking Death Eaters, the ones that know hows to dodge—it shoots round and hits 'em in the back before they know what's happenin'..._

"Ugh," said Luna aloud. "They sound like used-broom salesmen..."

Luna looked back at Ginny, who didn't seem to be paying her the slightest bit of attention. She followed her gaze, and was not surprised to see it led to the Duelling platform, where a certain black-haired boy was instructing children the proper stance...

Luna smiled at the moonstruck look on Ginny's face.

"Will you two _move up _already?" said a voice—Luna looked round and noticed that they'd been standing still an awful long time while the food line had been moving up.

"I apologise," she said to the man behind them. "Ginny, let's go..."

Ginny mumbled something about _in a minute_ but moved along anyway.

Once they'd caught up to the next people in line, Ginny sighed rather audibly. "He is so amazing... watching him like that..."

"You wonder what sort of a dad he'll be," said Luna knowingly.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "How'd you know that?"

"It was written on your face."

Suddenly, that face scrunched up violently, and before another moment had passed, and before either of them knew what was happening, Ginny exploded in a great

_ACCHOOO!_

It seemed to shock Ginny considerably, and once she'd recovered from the shock, her face looked rather limp and even paler than before.

She rubbed her throat, and in a rather surprised, achy-sounding voice—so that the "k" sound seemed to have an "h" in it somewhere—she said,

"Luna... I think I might be _sick.._."

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

Sick  
_Potter47_

"Enough had been thought, and said, and felt, and imagined.  
It was about time that something should be done."   
— C. S. Lewis

_III_

_The girl walked away from the hall with the ball—the Ball Hall, she wondered...?—and was planning on returning to her quarters when she spotted a curious pair rushing down the corridor:_

"_No, please! Let me come with you!" said one of the pair, a beautiful lady with bright red hair, who was wearing a long dressing gown and who looked more than a little sick._

"_I can't," said her partner, a black-haired man who happened to be dressed in shining armour. He appeared to be a knight. "I have to go, you can't come with me—"_

"_PLEASE?" the lady begged._

"_Where are you going?" the girl asked the knight. _

_He looked at her in surprise, and so did the lady—they hadn't noticed her._

"_To fight the dragon," said the knight._

"Oh, so you've noticed it?" said Luna.

"What?" said Ginny, looking up with heavily-lidded eyes and a handkerchief halfway to her nose. "Yes, I've _noticed _that I'm sick, Luna, yes, I get it, I'm sorry I didn't listen—but I'm still not going to Madam Pomfrey..."

"What?" said Luna, blinking and looking at her friend, confused. Then she recalled what was going on, and said, "Oh. Oh, no, that wasn't what I meant."

"What did you mean?" There was utter confusion upon Ginny's face—the kind of confusion that only comes from being lightheaded and sick and not feeling good and trying to make sense of things.

"Nothing," said Luna, shaking her head. "Just rest."

Ginny lay down again—she had the couch to herself now, because she didn't think it was smart to have Luna hold her so close when she was sick—after all, she didn't want _Luna _to get sick as well...

Luna didn't care, and she'd tried to tell Ginny so, but it was no use. Right now all Luna wanted to do was hold her crybaby and do absolutely anything within her power to make her feel better... it was killing her to stay in the comfy armchair that had appeared next to the couch.

Luna wished Ginny had listened before. Then she would have gone to bed and rested and not gone back to revising and she wouldn't have gone outside and she wouldn't be feeling so utterly, detestably _icky _right now, if only she'd believed her...

Ginny had started with that one sneeze—and from there it was most precipitously downhill. She'd started sneezing again and again, and her throat hurt, and she was all achy... Luna absolutely despised seeing her like this, but then she could never leave, of course.

Ginny's eyes were closed now, but she was obviously awake.

"How are you?" Luna said gently.

Ginny smiled slightly and said, "Icky."

Luna beamed—"I love that word. I mean, I hate feeling it, but it's a wonderful word, isn't it? _Icky._ It makes you feel like a little kid again..."

"Ugh, I already feel like a little kid," said Ginny. She opened her eyes and propped herself up on the edge of the couch, so she could look at Luna. "You'll make a good mum someday."

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Ginny, nodding.

"Yech?" Luna asked, an eyebrow quirked.

Ginny frowned. "I said... _yeah_... I'm sorry if I can't talk very well... like I said, icky..."

"It's OK," said Luna. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to."

Ginny looked at her a moment, and then: "But I _do _kind of want to talk... I dunno if I'll be understandable, though..."

"I'll figure it out," said Luna. "I always do."

"OK, then," said Ginny, nodding. She laughed a little: "So what to talk about...?"

"Harry?" suggested Luna.

"That's always a fine candidate," said Ginny approvingly. She let her head fall back again and looked at the ceiling. "_Harry..._ I love Harry. Harry is _great_."

"You deserve each other," said Luna.

"Yeah..." said Ginny, sounding rather delirious, either from being sick, being tired, being in love or all three.

"I'm going to marry Harry," said Ginny, nodding in her semi-conscious state. She sniffled. "Hey, that rhymes. Marry Harry..."

"Yes it does," said Luna, smiling.

"That's going to be nice. Being married, I mean. Being a mum, and everything... it must be great... my mum certainly enjoyed it, didn't she? Seven... I don't think I could have seven kids. I'd go barmy..."

"Who, you?" said Luna, smirking. "You_, barmy_? Never..."

"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. I'm sure I sound just perfectly sensible right now..." A sniffle, and a long breath: "What was I saying? Oh, yes, kids. I love kids. But not seven of them. Maybe... maybe _three._ Two girls and a boy. I'll name them... I'll name them..." She seemed to be grasping about for names for a while before finally saying, decisively, "Well, I dunno, but one of them's Luna..."

Luna sniffled, and she didn't think she was exhibiting symptoms...

Ginny continued rambling deliriously:

"...and me and Harry, we're going to get married right here on the grounds, you know, a big Hogwarts wedding. I thought about it at Dumbledore's funeral. Right on the same spot, you know... a happiness out of sadness sort of thing?"

Luna nodded. "That makes sense. It will be lovely."

"It will... and you know, that's where it happened, too. That's where we left off. Last year... at the funeral. _Damn_, that was a bad day. I felt like the world was ending, I was grieving Dumbledore's death _and _letting go of my beloved, all at once..."

"Your _beloved_?"

Ginny nodded, that silly, feverish smile still plastered on her face: "Yes. My _beloved_. That's what he is..."

Luna couldn't help beaming at her—she felt somehow inately _proud _of her, even if it was just the sickness talking. She'd said it, and that was what mattered... she was finally making sense.

Neither spoke for a long while, and it was very peaceful... Luna rather wished it could stay so peaceful forever, but it couldn't.

After a while, Luna began:

"Ginny...?"

"Yes?"

Luna hesitated one moment before saying it, and then: "Are you still scared?"

Ginny nodded fervently, her expression not changing. "Terrified. Horrified. Absolutely _quaking_ in my boots... if I was wearing them..."

"What are you afraid of, Ginny?"

"I'm scared that I'll lose him," said Ginny simply. "I'm scared he's going to die and I'm not going to be there and the rest of my life won't be real. I'm scared that I'll never kiss him again, that I'll never hold him... that I'll never tell him how much I love him. I'm scared I'm going to lose him and there's nothing I can do about it..."

"Ginny... there is something you can do about it."

The smile was gone. Ginny's face, as loopy as it had looked a moment before, was suddenly all seriousness. She sat up straight upright on the edge of the couch and looked Luna right in the face.

"Wha—a—AAACCHHOOOOOO!"

"Bless you."

"Thanks... Wha... what? What can I do?"

Luna took hold of Ginny's hand, and held it tight between both of hers—it was all sweaty, she noticed, but didn't really notice.

"You can tell him," said Luna. "You can tell him how much you love him, you can tell him everything... you can hold him, you can kiss him, you can _be with him,_ if you just tell him how you feel. If you just _do something _about it... he won't turn you away, I know it."

Ginny swallowed, and sniffled once again. She stared at Luna for a long time, and her hand hung limply between Luna's.

Then, her face scrunched up once again, and she looked like a little girl—_That face can't be older than six_, thought Luna. She started to cry once again, slowly at first...

"But I'm _scared_," she said, her voice so weak it was barely a voice at all.

Luna sniffled once again, and squeezed Ginny's hand. "It'll be OK, Ginny. Everything will be OK."

There was about three seconds between the moment Luna said "OK" and the moment Ginny launched herself off the couch and into Luna's arms. During that three seconds, Luna saw, in Ginny's eyes, every fear and every doubt, every worry and every bad thought, she saw _everything _that plagued the girl. And she saw something else as well.

Luna had never ever been hugged so tightly in her entire life, and she doubted she ever would be again. Ginny probably would have toppled the chair over if she were any heavier than a sack of large potatoes, and Luna couldn't _technically _breathe, but she didn't mind. Everything was OK, because she was holding her little crybaby, and she was going to be OK.

"_Thank you_, Luna," whispered Ginny in her ear.

——

They didn't let go. If anything, they both tightened their grip. They didn't speak anymore—they knew very well what was going to happen, there was no use communicating it out loud.

After the stupid demonstration thing was over, Luna would go out and find Harry, and bring him back here, to the Room of Requirement. Ginny would tell him everything, every little thing, everything she felt for him—and she would explain how damned stupid they'd been, to break things off.

It was all very well and good, to put things off for _later..._ "after the war," yes, after the war they'd get back together and everything would be OK. They'd get married, have a family, just like Ginny had always dreamed...

But they _couldn't _put things off for later, because there was no certainty that "later" would ever come. They had to make the most of the time they had, or they'd regret it forever—they couldn't just sit around and prepare, they had to do something, _now_.

There is no telling what the future holds, Luna knew that very well... For all she knew, this would be the last time she ever held Ginny like this, the last time she was a mum—perhaps she'd never _really_ be a mum at all, there was no way to know. Perhaps her crybaby was the only one she'd ever hold...

Luna sniffled, and the tears fell. The thought that this may be the end, that soon Ginny wouldn't need her like this at all, wouldn't need her to cry on or to ramble to or anything... she knew it had to happen, but...

Luna felt like she was going to be sick.

_Finis._


End file.
